Chapter 1
"You imbecile!"
The slap lands across my cheek so hard it rattles my bones. My head snaps to the side, and I stumble backward. The cup of tea I'm holding splashes across my chest, the hot liquid burning my skin. I scream from the burn, the glass cup shattering on the ground.
"You useless pathetic runt. I asked you for tea five minutes ago, and you're only just returning with it? You can't do anything right, can you?" Chloe snarls at me as she steps closer, pushing me to the ground.
I bite back a sob. My skin burns where the tea soaked through my torn clothes. I don't need to be told twice that it would scar badly.
"Get up, runt," Chloe barks out.
I push myself onto my hands and knees, my body shaking as I try to regain my balance. But before I can stand, I feel something cold splash against my face.
Ana smirks above me, holding a cup, the water now dripping off my forehead.
"This should teach you a lesson. Whenever you're sent to do something, you do it with haste," Ana sneers.
I nod quickly, not daring to wipe the dirty water that drips down my face. "Y-yes, M'lady."
I had no choice. I was only a slave in the rogue camp.
Chloe sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes as she flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Ah, you've really done it, you stupid mutt. Now I have water all over my shoes. Can you even begin to comprehend just how expensive these are?" She shakes her head, feigning disbelief. "No, no. This won't do."
She sits down, crossing her arms with a smug smile on her face. "Pull off my shoes and wipe them," she orders.
I freeze. Her words ring in my ears, but I don't dare say a word. I know my place.
"Do it," Chloe snaps.
I swallow hard, my hands shaking as I crawl toward her, my body aching from the work I've been doing before now. But I don't dare show it. Not unless I want to be beaten until I pass out. Slowly, I pull off her shoes. Then, I begin wiping them off with the ragged edge of my sleeve. This was the only clothing I owned, and yet, it was a rag to them still.
Soon after, I finish cleaning the shoe and carefully wear it back on Chloe's foot. "Hmm…that's better. Next time you keep me waiting for a minute, I'll make your life a living hell, runt," Chloe spits out before walking away with Ana.
I stay where I am, still kneeling. I wipe my face with the back of my hand, tears rolling down my cheeks. I am living in hell.
I don't get two seconds to myself when I hear his footsteps. It is him, the slave master, Caleb.
"Get up, Runt." The voice is deep and gruff. My stomach drops at the sound. His hand is rough; he grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so hard that pain shoots through my neck.
"You're wasting time," he growls, his breath hot against my ear. "The fun's over. Get back to work."
"Yes, Master."
He releases his hold on my hair with a rough shove, and I stumble forward. There is no use crying. It is a continuous circle for me. One that I will never get out of. I should be thankful. Thankful the former rogue leader accepted my mother that night even when they were all against it. Thankful they allowed me to stay in the camp even after her death, which just had to be right after my birth. I should be thankful they gave me a mat to sleep on, and the only way I can repay them is to be their slave. I should be thankful…but I am not.
"Move," Caleb barks, and I begin walking toward the farm.
The field is just as I left it, the soil rough and hot under my feet. I kneel and get to work, pulling at the stubborn weeds. My hands sting from where the tea burned me, but I don't mind it. The pain is nothing compared to what I have been through.
I have been doing this for hours now, hauling loads back and forth, and there is no end to it. I have the entire acre of land to clear all by myself, and if I don't finish on time, there will be no food left for me to eat.
The sun is harsher than ever. I force myself forward, ignoring the way my bones ache. Finally, I reach the shed. I step inside, the coolness of the shade giving a brief relief. I set the pile of crops down on the floor and wipe the sweat off my forehead, taking a short break. Caleb mustn't catch me doing nothing.
It is quiet for a minute, too quiet. I feel something shifting in the air, but I can't put my finger on it.
I turn, ready to walk out of the shed, only to stop dead in my tracks at the loud horn echoing through the air. The birds in the trees all fly away. Panic surges through me. The camp is under attack.
I rush to the door, my hands shaking as I try to open it. But it is locked, barred from the outside. I pound on the wood frantically. This cannot be happening to me. Not right now.
Our rogue camp is one of the largest camps and the most dangerous. Which means whoever attacked must be…
"It's the Obsidian pack! Run for your lives!" Someone screams, and soon everyone has begun running. No one wants to be left behind.
I knock on the door frantically, screaming for help. I can't be left behind. I have to run for my life too. "Let me out! Please!" I scream, my voice cracking as I throw myself against the door. But it doesn't budge.
I can hear the chaos outside—the yells, the clashes of metal, the unmistakable sound of fighting. A cold fear sinks deep into my bones.
And then I hear them. Chloe. Ana, and Glenn, laughing at me. I see them running past the window, their faces twisted in smirks. They don't look back.
"Good luck, mutt," Chloe's voice rings in my ears, even though she is far away now.
I start to pound on the door again, harder this time. "Please! Help me! Someone!" I can't be left here. Not with them…not with them.
I know what the Obsidian pack does to slaves. I know exactly what they'll do to me if they find me here, locked inside, alone. The horror stories I've heard over the years flash through my mind. The brutal treatment, the death, the fate worse than death.
The fear of being caught is worse than anything I've ever known. I freeze when I smell it, smoke. It slips in through the gaps in the wood.
"No, no, no, no."
I back away from the walls, my throat tightening as the smoke fills my lungs. I cough violently, dropping to my knees. My eyes sting with tears.
"Please, help me." I don't want to die like this. Not trapped. Not burned alive.
Suddenly, I hear it. Footsteps. They are heavy and fast. I barely register them over the flames before the door bursts open. A dark figure steps through the smoke.
My vision swims, but the scent that crashes into me is unmistakable. Dark chocolate and pine.
It overwhelms my senses. It is the most intoxicating thing I've ever smelled.
I try to speak, to say something, anything, but the world suddenly tilts, dark spots appearing in my vision.
My body gives out. The last thing I see is silver eyes watching me.
Then everything goes black.
But before I hit the ground, strong arms catch me.
A deep, rough, and possessive voice hits my ears one last time.
"Mate."